


Calling Me On

by kalymnos



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-04
Updated: 2012-07-04
Packaged: 2017-11-09 04:01:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/451033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kalymnos/pseuds/kalymnos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Non-AU. Where Jared excels at facilitating Jensen's sex life, and Misha does not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Calling Me On

_"Is this one of your interventions?"_

_"Cas, you need to start telling us what's going on up there."_

_"The matters of heaven don't concern you, Dean."_

_Sam steps forward. "Look, Cas, we're just worried about you."_

_Castiel shifts his solemn gaze over to Sam, open his mouth to speak. Stops. His nose scrunches, wiggles, his face breaks --_

_"Ah-CHOO!"_

"Cut!"

Jensen shuts his eyes tight, teeth grinding together painfully. He rakes a hand down his face, feels Jared shift next to him, a warm touch against his lower back in support.

"Sorry, sorry guys!" Misha's saying to the room. "Hayfever." He digs a nasal spray out of the pockets of the trench coat, holds it up for everyone to see. "Anyone for some Beconase?" He darts around with the bottle held aloft, bargaining for its use ( _no charity here, friends, just 50 cents for a squirt_ ) and crooning at the laughs he elicits from the crew. 

Jensen feels his temper start to boil, white-hot just under his skin. He inhales deeply, hands clenched against his sides. He loves Misha, the guy's a riot, diffuses tension like he's being paid for it, but right now Jensen would give a week's pay to see him fall silent. He opens his mouth in a snarl, ready to snap --

He feels Jared squeeze his arm and it cuts him off. "Breathe," Jared murmurs. He'd shown Jared the text message Danneel sent when she'd arrived at the lot an hour ago, fresh off a plane. _Meet me at your trailer when you're done_. Jared had understood instantly, grinned ecstatically and shoved him, _lucky bastard._

Jensen had raced through his coverage, careful not to miss a mark, straight-faced through all of Misha's attempts to get him to break. Then when it was Jared's turn, he'd squared his jaw and fucking _nailed_ his own, not a single slip, and Jensen felt like crying in relief. He owed the guy a case of beer. That was a half hour ago.

"I've got it," Jared mutters now. As Misha leaps toward them, Jared snatches the bottle and tucks it into his own jeans. Ignoring the splutters and flying limbs, he takes Misha by the shoulders and manoeuvres him back onto his mark. Low and threatening, he says, "Dude, I am so fucking hungry right now, if you don't get your coverage done in the next two minutes so we can break for lunch, I'mma be having your ears for my first course."

He looks over at Jensen and winks. _Told you I had your back dude._ Jensen breathes out, smiles shakily, skin thrumming in anticipation.

After five minutes of filming, they're given the all-clear, and Jensen sprints off set.

 

He's at his trailer in record time, tripping up the steps and flinging the door open, breathing heavily. 

Danneel looks up at the sound and drops the X-Box controller she was using. From the LCD screen behind her, there's the high-definition synthetic sound of screeching tyres and crumpling metal as her car collides head-first with the barricade.

"Do I need to school your ass on this again?" he pants, gesturing at the TV but never once taking his eyes away from her. He feels release already, a warmth brimming in his chest, like only the sight of her here, tired but happy and eager, can bring.

"You're an asshole," she rolls her eyes, kneeling up against the back of the couch. They talk every day, but there's nothing like hearing that in person and seeing the glint in her eyes that means the opposite. "Now get over here and kiss your wife."

The dam breaks, and he's over to her in a second, kissing her clumsily and tumbling them both back over the cushions. He lands in between her legs and looks down at her gorgeous laughing face, the one that's saying in no uncertain terms what a dork he is, knows there's a stupidly besotted look on his own.

He buries his face in her neck, flattens his body against hers and relishes in the way she curls herself around him, like as much physical contact as possible will stem the ache of two weeks without touching at all. 

"We got time?" she says softly. Her body is warm and trembling just slightly underneath his, an echo of the insistent pulse he's feeling.

He raises his head without speaking, kisses her slowly and purposefully. She lets him coax her mouth open, content with the languorous pace, until she grows too impatient and starts placing playful nips around his lips and down his neck.

"You're ruining my seduction," he growls, moving away so he can glare down at her. 

She grins, licks a stripe up the side of his face and jabs her thumbs hard up underneath his ribs. So fast he can barely comprehend it, she has him reared up and falling back over on his ass, landing with a whomp on the cushions. 

"First," she says happily as she loses her jeans, revealing – _oh fuck_ – nothing else, and clambers on top to straddle him, "I'm a sure thing right now, so save the seduction for when I'm mad at you." She strips off her jacket and tee-shirt and throws them aside, revealing a plain blue lace bra and breasts so beautiful they make Jensen's mouth water. He runs a reverent hand from her wrist up to her collarbone, dipping into the tanned, glowing hollow, before cupping her face. 

"Second," she mutters brow-furrowed as she wrestles with his belt buckle and zipper, "we probably don't have enough time for foreplay anyway and I'm so fucking ready for you I'm about to scream." They groan in unison, Jensen as she wraps a tight grip around his cock and pulls him out, and Danneel in triumphant anticipation. She turns her mouth abruptly, catches the thumb he's been tracing her jaw with between her lips, and sucks him right into the knuckle.

Hips stuttering up helplessly, he nearly throws her off. "Sorry, sorry," he mumbles, feeling desperate and out-of-control, but so fucking violently in love with her it's like running a constant fever.

"And third," she says breathlessly, releasing his thumb and shifting herself up and over him, dropping forward on her elbows to kiss him hard and fast and loving, "just shut up and fuck me."

So he does.


End file.
